A Little Ambivalent and Extremely Malevolent
by Mainxz
Summary: Fontaine hurts Jack when he doesn't kill him, he hurts him more when he rapes him. He hurts him most when he decides to keep him around. Jacktaine Warnings for: Noncon/Dubcon, Jack being really messed up, and all the profanity


Of all the fucked up, awful, dehumanizing things that Atlas and then Fontaine had done to me; forcing me to stay with him was the worst. I expected death after I lost, I'd asked for it. He'd found me at the best possible time...for him. I was unprepared and I hadn't slept or ate in way too long, too easy for him.

 _Blood dripped down from my nose where he'd punched me. I hadn't expected to make it this far at all, and as far as I saw there were two options either he kills me or I kill him. Either way it'd be over, somehow. I had manged pretty well so far by just waiting him out in a sense, dodging him and faking him out, occasionally getting him but just **occasionally** wasn't good enough and in a matter of seconds he had me pinned against a wall with nothing but my wrench, and that fell out of my grip when he pinned me. No EVE, no ammo; nothing. I really wanted to be full of rage, wanted to have the energy to fight back; but I just felt...content. I could taste the blood in the back of my throat but I didn't care. I was ready to die. All it took was having to stare in the face of death to come to terms with it. Until now I had never realized how **hopeless** and **unfair** and **cruel** this whole ordeal had been. Then I was starring into the barrel of a gun, and for the first time since I had gotten here I smiled._

" _End of the line, kid." then that gun was against my temple,_ well, _I thought,_ at least it'll be over quick _. I closed my eyes and managed out, "Can you just do it and get it over with?"_

" _What?" He said, and he sounded angry._

" _Just...Just kill me already! Please."_

 _Something must've happened in his brain because instead of giving me what I want and killing me, instead of shooting me in the fucking face and letting everything just stop instead of giving me some kind of peace, I swear I heard him say,"Good night, Jackie" before the gun reared back and everything went black before I felt any impact._

Waking up was funny and not in a ha-ha way, I didn't actually expect to wake up at all. I expected to be put down like a sick dog. That's what I am to them, isn't it? I didn't expect to be on a-really comfortable- bed very much alive and I sure as hell didn't expect Frank-Fucking-Fontaine sitting across from me looking so much like Atlas, suspenders and all. I only looked at him for a moment but it was too surreal, he looked like I imagined him to and that made everything so much worse. I tried to get out and try for round two, it'd probably be a repeat of round one; only shorter and ending with me dead, but instead of any sort of freedom my arms were restricted above my head to a bedpost (his probably) and every time I tried to get out it felt the binds just got tighter.

I hit my head against the post mumbling "no, no, no" over and over like a prayer. The bed sunk a little and he gripped my jaw and turned my face toward him. "What, did you really expect me to let you off that easy?" he said, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, it wasn't. I opened my mouth to reply but nothing came out except for confused stutters, what do you say to that? After a second I managed to bite out, "Easy?" I decided _not_ to say, 'and what ever happened to you

and then something cold was on me, the side of my face where he pistol whipped me, it stung and I pulled a face. "Y'know kid, I didn't expect you to go down so easy. Guess the lack of food and sleep helped" Then he laughed and added, "And the loss of y're savior, _boy-o_. Guess that made for a triple threat." in that Irish tone that just added insult to injury.

He pulled his hand back from my face and I realized what he'd been doing. He was cleaning the blood off of me, I had a lot of blood on me and most of it wasn't mine. Most of what he'd cleaned from my face was, though.

"Why are you doing this?" I just wanted some kind of answer. Anything, I'm so confused that at this point him saying _I brought you here to torture you and kill you_ would be more comforting. He ignored me and went on another tangent, "You weren't always such a stubborn little shit. Nah, kid you worshiped the fucking ground I walked on. Followed me around like a little puppy dog-"

"You made me _kill_ my puppy." I spat and he clicked his tongue at that.

"No I didn't tell you to shit to that dog. That was all the chink, he was the one who worked on your brain. And let me tell ya, since you're the first of your kind a lot of fucked up shit happened to you. Lot of fucked up shit, that whole puppy thing wasn't even in the goddamn top five." Fontaine was all business, he spoke about my 'creation' like he rattling off a grocery list and not something revolutionary if not terrifying. "You hungry?" he suddenly asked, reaching in his pocket for something, ah, a cigarette. How in character.

"Wh-what?" then he rolled his eyes and repeated slower, in a condescending tone as he lit up the cancer stick.

"You hungry, you want food. Shit course you are. Probably can't even focus on what I'm trying to tell you, and that's not gonna work for me"

He disappeared and reappeared in a matter of, in my mind, seconds. Except now he had food and lots of it. "I'm gonna unchain you, you try to make a move I'll keep you tied up like that all the time, got it?" he didn't unbind my hands until I nodded at him. "Good."

as soon as my hands were free they went straight for the food. It wasn't likely that he would poison me and it wouldn't matter if he did, I'd asked him to kill me and I still wanted to die. However, I wasn't "Getting off that easy." I was just tearing away at everything there like an animal.

"I could've poisoned you, kid." he wiped away some stray juice from my mouth, and I frowned at myself for blushing.

"Did you?" I was hopeful that he did. Which probably meant he didn't. From what I'd seen Fontaine had no purpose in life if he wasn't stepping over someone else and crushing all of their hopes and dreams. One by one.

"No. Just tellin' ya. You were never a cold blooded killer, never. You weren't...It would'a been a lot easier if you were. You wouldn't a grown on me like you did, and you did grow on me. Who knows, maybe I'll grow on you again too. I'm not letting you go again, Jack."

My head shot up and I completely panicked, "What do you mean? No I, I, I want to leave. You can't make me stay here-"

That must have set him off because he leaned in, said "Would you kindly hold still until I say you can move." I didn't think it would work, I didn't think he could make me do anything. I didn't think he could control me with those words anymore. I found I couldn't move, he slapped me and I fell back and accepted the pain. I had no choice but to deal with it as he hit me over and over again. After the slapping turned to punching I felt myself drift away. I was still awake, I was still there but I wasn't really feeling anything physically. It was like I was standing over myself watching the shit get beaten out of me.

Then it all stopped and he pulled back "Now, would you kindly strip naked." and I did. I felt bile coming up from my throat and I pushed it back. _Just get this over with_ , I thought on repeat to myself. Everything was off and I felt too exposed. I was pushed over onto the floor. Classy. I couldn't see anything, but I could sure as shit hear it and feel it. I could hear his belt come off and I could feel it crack against the back of my thigh. I could _definitely_ feel his fingers forcing their way into my mouth and I could hear him say "Would you kindly not bite." and I didn't.

The fingers that were in my mouth moved down, further and further until they were circling against... _oh._ Then, while he was fingering me he touched _something_ and I moaned. "Found it." he mocked laughing at my expense. He kept continually touching _whatever_ he was touching. All it did was reduce me into a sobbing moaning mess. Fontaine whistled low, "You're a little slut."

He forcibly turned me around, so I was facing him.

"Keep your legs spread, _would you kindly._ "

"Fuck you." I spat even as I obeyed him. But that just made him laugh.

"Oh, I'm gonna." Fontaine had a cigarette that was still lit in his mouth, he put it out on my chest and I finally screamed.

He continued to torture me like that. Biting me, burning me, calling me a filthy slut. He abruptly lifted my legs up and _pushed._ Thrusting inside of me, and it _hurt._ Then it felt good, then it hurt, then it felt good again. I really couldn't tell which was worse.

 **.**

Fontaine looked down at Jacks passed out form with disdain, adoration, anger, concern and lust all wrapped up in one completely fucked up package. "Shit..." He started, just realizing how bad that was, he was covered in sweat, blood and tears. For once he'd felt remorse for all the things he'd done the kid. He picked Jack up, put him back on his bed and covered him with a blanket. That was as close to an apology as he could give.


End file.
